


Chasing Nightmares

by Bofa1



Category: Antfrost - Fandom, Badboyhalo, Dreamwastaken, GeorgeNotFound - Fandom, Minecraft - Fandom, Minecraft Manhunt - Fandom, Sapnap - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Bounty Hunter, Manhunt - Freeform, Minecraft, Minecraft Manhunt, mercenary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:14:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27721957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofa1/pseuds/Bofa1
Summary: The infamous mercenary bounty hunter under the alias of 'Dream' has set his sights on his biggest mission yet: the egg of the Ender Dragon.After word of his newest project reaches the ears of The King, he sends out his four best hunters with one goal: to kill Dream before he can kill his prized dragon.This story follows these five adventurers through the plains of The Overworld, the depths of The Nether and the barren wastes of The End and chronicles their every challenge and encounter.
Kudos: 21





	Chasing Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> This work was initially planned as a oneshot scene based around the manhunt premise. But after looking at it, I see potential to expand it into a multi-chapter work.
> 
> But I'm gonna be honest and say I'm too lazy to do so just cause I feel like it, so instead I decided to post it here. And if it gets enough support I'll start working on the expanded version.
> 
> So if you enjoy this, make sure to show your support in the comments. :)
> 
> (Also, if it is expanded, this will likely not be the first chapter and it will also likely be edited to better the flow of the chapter.)

Early morning sunlight filtered through the filthy windows of the village tavern, framing the imposing figure of the hooded stranger as he sat at the bar; mug of ale cradled between calloused hands.  
“Bit early for a drink don’t ya think?” The gruff voice of the barman grated across the silence, raising sharp green eyes to his ruddy face and causing him to shrink back instinctively.  
“Never too early for a drink.” 

Although quiet, the smooth voice held a note of reserved power that sliced through the air like a well-honed blade and each word was a calculated strike of the coiled whip of his tongue. Despite having heard it previously, the barman took a step back from where the stranger sat and quickly retreated behind into the storeroom to gather the supplies the stranger had listed for purchase.

Pulling down several strips of salted beef, he wrapped them efficiently beside the large hunk of cheese before slipping them into the worn burlap sack where five hardy loaves of bread rested. After slinging a sack of grain over his shoulder, he returned to the front of the bar to complete his transaction with the stranger who had already downed his ale. A dagger-sharp gaze pinned him with quiet intensity as he dumped the two sacks on the countertop before him.

“That’ll be ten emeralds, sir.” At the questioning tilt of the hooded head, the man shrugged, “Supplies are tight this year, sir. Haven’t had the best season with travellers coming through and raiding our fields and supply chests. This is the best I can do for you.”  
“Thank you, this will suffice. Can I pay you with gold?”  
“Gold? Where have you been getting gold from?” All he got was a silent look in response telling him to not push the subject as the quiet voice repeated itself,  
“Can I pay with gold?”  
“I’ll make an exception for you due to the fact that I know a man that handles it. It’ll be three ingots.”  
“I’ll give you five to buy your silence.”  
“My silence? Why would you need that?”  
“There are people in this world I’d rather not have on my trail who might bring you and your village trouble. I need to keep all my assets accounted for. So, your silence?”  
“Of course, sir.”  
“Good.”

With an eerily effortless movement, the stranger fished out five glistening ingots from his forest green cloak and deposited them on the countertop. The wood groaned under the weight causing the barkeep’s eyes to widen in shock and he tried—and failed—to swipe them out of sight.  
“Withers above, how’d you carry these?” He raised his gaze to where the stranger sat only to see his shadowy figure disappear through the door. Soon after, the clatter of hooves on cobblestones echoed through the village and a mighty white stallion thundered out of the town centre. The hood of its rider thrown back in the wind revealing a white-masked creature with molten bronze hair.

***********************************************************************************************

The steady beat of Spirit’s hooves on the grass below him was a welcome sound to Dream; glad to be back on the run. Already, he knew he had spent too long at the village wasting precious time negotiating with the barman rather than raiding it as he usually did. But after a single glance at the state of the village inhabitants, he’d known he didn’t have the heart to steal what meagre supplies they appeared to have. He was a bad man, sure. But to stoop to that level would have declared him heartless. And it wasn’t like the five ingots had cost him much, the heavy clink of his money pouch a reminder of that fact.

However, the evidence of his lost time made itself very clear almost immediately after he left behind the final row of village buildings. The clamour of horses in the cobbled village centre reached his keen ears and he chanced a glance back under his arm to confirm his fears. Four distinctly clad riders thundered down the road behind him, iron swords glinting evilly in the early morning sunlight. Cursing under his breath, Dream turned his attention to the landscape before him. Stretching ahead of him and to the right was the plains he galloped across now—the perfect place for Spirit to prove his mettle and outrun their monstrous horses, but Dream knew his horse was tiring after days of constant running. Which left him with the second option: the dark twisting shadows of the dark oak forest. The low hanging branches and closely packed tree trunks made manoeuvrability on horseback nigh on impossible and although Dream knew he would have to leave behind his beloved stallion, he knew that his hunters would have to as well. And anyway, the trees were Dream’s domain.

With a slight tug on the reins, Dream kicked Spirit in the direction of the nearest low-hanging tree. Sensing his master’s intentions, Spirit picked up his speed whilst simultaneously smoothing out his gait and allowing Dream to make any last-minute changes to his kit. His shield was strapped across his back with his crossbow, leaving his hands free but remaining in easy reach and his shimmering blue sword swung from its scabbard at his waist. As they neared the treeline, his feet came out of the stirrups and up the saddle, so that he was crouched on the top of the saddle, clinging to the pommel to keep his balance as Spirit flew across the grass. 

An arrow thudded into the grass to the left of the pair, startling Spirit and causing him to veer right instinctively. The sudden movement unseated Dream and before he could react, he found himself plummeting towards the ground. A neat roll lessened the impact of the fall, but for one moment the disorientation left him stunned and still. It was only the sharp whistle of an airborne arrow that brought him back to the present, sending him into another reflexive roll before landing on his feet again and sprinting towards the treeline. The sound of his pursuers was deafening as they drew closer to the fleeing mercenary and he braced himself for the pain of an arrow embedding itself in his back.

That was until the steady beat of hooves flew in from the right along with the familiar bellow of his best friend. The white stallion planted himself between his master and his enemies, whinnying ferociously and blocking their view of Dream. Taking the small opportunity his horse had given him, Dream put on a burst of speed and leapt up onto the nearest branch, clambering up and disappearing into the leafy shadows. The relief of rough bark beneath his hands was almost overwhelming and a breathless laugh huffed from his mouth.

This joy was short lived, however, as the pained scream of a horse echoed across the grass. 

Dream whipped his head back to see Spirit rear up on his hind legs with a pained bellow, the shaft of an arrow buried deep in his left shoulder. The area around it was stained a deep red, a vivid contrast to his snowy fur and the rage that bubbled up in Dream’s mind was uncontrollable. With a pained cry to match that of his horse, he pulled out his crossbow and fired a wildly aimed bolt into the middle of the pack of four riders. The panicked horses all shied away from where it impacted the grass between them, throwing one rider with a wild cry and unseating the others.

Reason returned to Dream in that moment, and after one last glance at his friend, he strapped the crossbow to his back once more and leapt to the branches of the next tree. Twigs and leaves snatched at his cloak, but found no purchase on the enchanted fabric, and the smooth surface of the mask left his face safe from the prying branches. Deft hands swung from branch to branch, swinging where needed and leaping from trunk to trunk like a wraith in the canopy. When the rasp of his breath was the only sound he could hear, Dream came to a stop near the top of a particularly wide tree and rested his back against its worn trunk. The mask was pushed away as he took a long draw from his water flask and tore off a hunk of bread from his food supplies. Keen green eyes scanned the forest floor below him as his ears strained for any sound beyond the rustle of mobs in the undergrowth. 

Whilst he heard no sounds of pursuit, a familiar hissing and bubbling pulled his attention down to the right. He dropped soundlessly to the ground, startling a nearby sheep, and jogged towards the source of the noise. As he drew closer, the heat and stench of sulphur confirmed his hopes and as he turned the corner around a dense cluster of trunks, he was faced with a beautiful sight.

The ruined portal stood proud amongst the pools of lava and half-solidified magma. Veins of blood-red Netherrack crawled out in all directions from it—Nether creeping into the Overworld like the dying virus it was. The old chest next to the broken frame held a chipped flint and steel—that he was happy to find still sparked when he struck the two parts together—as well as the broken fragments of the portal. Encouraged by his findings, Dream pulled the items from the chest before slamming it shut behind him. 

He was about to start assembling the portal when an arrow thudded into the obsidian beside his head.

He was moving before he had time to fully process what was happening; instinct throwing him forwards and behind the portal for cover. His crossbow was unslung from his shoulder and loaded in a heartbeat as he glanced round the side in search of his assailants. The dull glint of an iron blade shimmered in the shadows to his left—the only sign of his shadowy hunter and he fired a bolt into the trees. A quiet curse pierced the silence as well as the loud crash of a body hitting the undergrowth. And like the fuse to TNT, the forest exploded with movement.

Dream’s shield came up just in time to block the axe on his right, the force of the blow sending violent tremors up his arm. Glancing up at the soldier, the white bandana round his head marked him as Sapnap: one of the King’s right-hand men and the clear muscle of the group. His face was twisted into a focused grimace, dark eyes burning with hatred for the masked mercenary. Dream’s eyes echoed the same as he swung his crossbow round and slammed it into the side of the brute’s head, sending him reeling to the side.

In one fluid movement, the crossbow was back over his shoulder and his sword was out of its sheath. The bright blue blade shimmered with purple sparks and a wicked smile shone hidden beneath the mask as fear flickered in the eyes of his enemies.  
“Gentlemen,” a mocking nod in their direction, “How kind of you to join me.” Despite the four deadly men bristling with weapons in front of him, the mercenary held himself with a bored air; eyes unreadable behind the mocking dead smile of his mask and hands relaxed around the hilt of his sword.

“Drop the weapons and things will be easier for you.” The tallest of the four spoke first, spectacles glinting underneath a red-rimmed hood and twin throwing knives glinting in gloved fists. The enchanted compass around his neck marked him as the group’s tracker and told Dream that this was the infamous bounty hunter under the guise of ‘Halo’.  
“Who said I liked things easy?” They could hear the mocking grin in his voice and Sapnap’s grip on his axe tightened. He likely would have struck if it weren’t for the blade held up to his chest by his slightly shorter partner. The man’s deep blue tunic and the enchanted bow over his shoulder marked him as the team’s archer and the magnifying goggles perched above his eyes suggested he doubled as a scout. This was the King’s personal raven, George—a man renowned for his ability to gain intel from anyone and anything. “That’s right, George. Keep your attack dog under control. Wouldn’t want to have to put him down.” By the way Sapnap’s face was reddening, Dream knew his taunts were working.

“Don’t think Sapnap’s the one being put down today.” The quiet voice in Dream’s ear caused him to tense as the icy blade of a dagger pressed against his exposed throat. Peering out of the corner of his eyes, Dream noted the distinctive crests of the man’s helmet, marking him as Antfrost the King’s favourite assassin.  
“I was wondering where you’d gotten to,” Dream responded, cold voice not revealing the rapid thrumming of his heart.  
“I couldn’t mask my curiosity,” the dagger slid up the side of Dream’s throat and up his jawline, pausing at the strap tying his mask round his head. As it slipped under, Dream couldn’t disguise the tension radiating off him like a coiled whip. “I’ve always been curious about the man under the mask.” 

With an effortless motion and a SNAP that seemed to echo in Dream’s ears, his mask thumped quietly to the floor.

A broken face looked out at the world. Pale scars twisting from the corners of a hard mouth in a hellish depiction of a smile and the flash of exposed teeth where the damaged flesh hadn’t fully healed. Dream couldn’t tell if the fear in their eyes was from his face or the promise of the slow and painful death burning in his eyes.  
“I hope you gentlemen are getting a good long look in, cause my gorgeous mug is the last thing any of you will ever see.” The low growl of his voice sent tremors along the spines of the four men and the blade at his throat faltered slightly as Antfrost glanced at his companions questioningly. 

Dream seized this moment of confusion and exploded into action. A swift jab in the ribs behind him had Anfrost keeled over and gasping for air, dagger dropping harmlessly to the floor. In another heartbeat the cat-like assassin was pinned to the ground with the sole of Dream’s boot grinding his throat into the grass as he flailed for air. He was saved by a clash of swords and sparks; Dream’s blade sliding along the length of George’s iron weapon with a hiss as the shorter man forced Dream off balance and allowed Antfrost to scramble away.

The determined grimace on George’s face caused Dream’s taunting smile to widen as he pulled away suddenly before diving in with a flurry of precise, lightning fast strokes that had George scrambling to defend himself with panicked jerks of his blade and shield. However, it wasn’t long before Dream slipped through and the crimson of blood dripped to the grass with a pained cry. George stumbled away from the green mercenary, clutching a hand to the side of his torn tunic as Sapnap stepped forward defensively to give him time to heal. 

Dream knew that the brutish axe in Sapnap’s grip would deal some severe damage to him if it made contact at any point, and silently prayed that his shield would hold out from the beating it was sure to get. He bounced up on the balls of his feet with an acrobat’s grace, twirling his shimmering sword in his grip as he adopted a taunting fighting stance.  
“So, attack dog. Show me what those teeth can do.”  
“Careful, wouldn’t wanna ruin that pretty face.” Sapnap’s face was twisted in a cruel smirk as a dark look flashed across Dream’s features and his cocky demeanour faltered slightly. Picking up on the dangerous energy creeping like a menacing shadow around the mercenary, Halo twirled one of his knives in his grip, the bright flash of silver in the darkness a silent reminder of his presence that turned the mocking smirk in his direction, the dangerous Emerald gaze holding him transfixed.

And suddenly they were gone, leaving nothing but an empty bottle thudding to the ground and a whisper drifting over the grass. Sapnap and Halo backed up to their downed partners in the treeline in a panic, backing them up against the broad trunk of a tree and circling the open space defensively. Dream’s cold laugh sounded from the shadows to their right, the disembodied sound sending chills down their collective spines as a vicious serrated dagger buried itself in the wood above their heads.  
“Not so brave now, are you?”

The whispered voice in Sapnap’s ear sent him swinging wildly with his axe, causing Halo to cry out in alarm as it whistled wildly over his head and thudded into the tree behind him.  
“Watch it, Sapnap! That could have been my head!”  
“Yeah, Sapnap, wouldn’t want to hurt your friend, there would we?” Again, like a slithering parasite in his ear, the smile evident in the upwards curl of the words as an invisible hand curled round the man’s throat. A gentle finger caressed his jaw as the rest slowly tightened their grip, causing Sapnap to tense up in a panic and jerk the axe out of its resting place. The sudden motion cracked into the back of Halo’s head sending him sprawling in the grass beside George and Antfrost with a yelp as a strangled gasp croaked out between the cold fingers.

“Tut, tut, tut, Sapnap. Look at what you’ve done. Who’s gonna chase after me now?”  
“Mercenary scum!” The hunter snarled as his vision began to fade. “You’re not going to escape us this easily again. Mark my words.”  
“I look forward to it.”

The unconscious body slumped to the floor beside its partners and Dream leapt over them into the shadows of the forest once more. The pieces of the portal weighing heavy in his pocket as the ghostly stench of sulphur tainted the air. He knew what lay ahead of him, and he knew that he’d need every bastardly scrap of courage in his cold heart to get through the next phase of Hell before him.

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said in the top note, please show your support in the kudos and comments.
> 
> I'm also open to any and all criticism you have to offer.


End file.
